Yesterday I wrote what many observers read as an endorsement of Marie Osmond for this year's Dancing With The Stars crown. I lauded Marie for her perseverance through two and a half months of personal hell (even if I thought her Mambo last week was clunky.)

What a difference a night makes. Last night Marie faced off against Melanie Brown (aka Scary Spice) and indy car champ Helio Castroneves.

First the highlight of Marie's performance: Her impersonation of a live blow up doll to the Rolling Stones' "Start Me Up" during the freestyle competition was more than a jolt. It was a cultural moment. The image of Marie as a giant sex toy was a stunning repudiation of so many assumptions we've made about this woman for over 40 years. She's not the simpleminded good girl sitting at home crafting dolls for little old ladies and their granddaughters. She's a woman - and she's perfectly happy being manhandled by her younger partner, Jonathan. Post-feminism is back, courtesy of Marie.



As for her faith, she made it clear with this dance: She respects her religion, but her religion doesn't own her.

But while Marie's freestyle performance bordered on high art - expect to see the video of this performance playing on a loop in modern art galleries everywhere - it doesn't negate the fact that her opening Samba blew chunks. What's more, we saw the megalomaniac side of Marie when she bullied the judges for their less than sterling reviews. Haughtily proclaiming herself "one of the top doll designers in the world" did little for her much vaunted likability.

Even after her sex-drenched freestyle, she reminded viewers that she's a doll designer (WE KNOW!). The unflappable Tom Bergeron had had enough and tartly replied, "I think we all know that," before shooing her away.

Meanwhile Scary Mel fared only a little better - no thanks to her Spice Girl sisters in the front row. Her opening cha-cha was fine. But her freestyle performance was one long call girl infomercial. When the judges diplomatically pointed out that she was off the charts on the slutty scale, the Spice Girls in the audience turned into menacing soccer hooligans. Baby, Ginger and Sporty started booing and cursing. (Posh, aka Victoria Beckham, was too weak to boo, though she did manage to sit up - kind of.) Judge Carrie Ann Inaba seemed afraid that one of them might drag her onto the "pitch" and start kicking her in the stomach. Not an unreasonable fear.

Which brings us to Helio Castroneves. His opening jive (?) was exhilarating, even if the footwork was faulty. When the judges pointed this out, he accepted their criticism graciously. Then came his freestyle, a grand prix satire of race car driver bravado. The lifts were so great that judge Bruno Tonioli momentarily dropped the Roberto Benigni act (my neighbor tells me that Tonioli is actually from Jacksonville, Florida).

Helio has never performed professionally. Yet he's the best dancer - and, yes, the most likable. And probably the best role model for young competitors. He's got my vote! (Close observers also noticed that Leeza Gibbons smiled and applauded after Helio's performance. Until that moment she'd maintained strict neutrality - like a Supreme Court justice at a State of the Union address.)

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Some Marie Osmond supporters have brought it to my attention that Helio is Brazilian and, as such, has an unfair advantage when it comes to dancing. Dancing is a major part of Brazilian life. (Brazil is also known for its sugar-based ethanol fuel.)

In fact dancing in the annual Carnival parade is compulsory for all Brazilians above the age of six. Indeed I'm hard pressed to name a clumsy Brazilian. They may not exist. (If you're acquainted with any clumsy Brazilians, please let us know in the comments section!)